Ethiopia does affect me, it did Before I knew you, and it will forever forward. Aside from Tamene's connection and obvious bond with this country, there is more. First of all a proud country, full of proud and loving people. I recommend you read up on their history. Except for a brief "misunderstanding" of occupancy by the Italians, this country has never been colonized. And they are proud of it. They are proud to live in this place. If you haven't been there, I am sure it is confusing to think about being proud and underfed. Maybe for a moment, picture being a proud American in the settling dust of the World Trade Center attack. Things don't have to be perfect for us to be proud. We just have to acknowledge or efforts, that's what makes pride.
Back to the trip... we were passing people, and animals, and people and animals. Often times we had to slow or stop on this main "highway" like road (although the only main road for miles in either direction) to wait for the people to move. The beauty of the trip was frequently and consistently interrupted by the driver sounding the horn as a warning that we were coming, however politely asking people to move. If they didn't move he would slow and wait. The only equal rights - and this is a horrible comparison- that I felt I experienced was the right of way of human, animal and vehicle, regardless of road or pavement, gravel or sidewalk. So the bus moved along beep-beeping as I noticed the rolling hills into rolling mountains. Looking out over a hill side I see the tops of several huts' roofs peeking out from the trees, grasses, and False Banana plants. Along the way, my mind's eye is very busy snapping shot after shot. Green hillsides, Acadia Trees, people, huts. Herds herded by young boy after young boy. Small children walking alone or with older children, parents no where to be seen. Young children carrying younger children on their back. Everyone seems to be going somewhere. I imagine the parents are caring for some other family need, sending their children off to do the best they can for the day and being rewarded by returning to their home together each evening.I continue to watch along the road taking in the sights trying so hard to notice the light and sun, and the colors, the temperature and the smells. It's so much work. I am exhausting myself. But for me and for the stories I tell Tamene, I continue to "research" and gather information. Did I talk to those around me on the bus during this time? If I did I don't remember. But the people outside and the hillsides, I remember.
Arriving in Hosanna
A day prior to this trip we were able to view video of Tamene's birth mother, meeting her would have some familiarity for me, but none for her. I would have the excitement of telling her how beautiful Tamene is and how he was already loved by all of us. She would have the difficult task of asking us if we would raise him as our own, and if we would provide for him and make sure he grew up well. Perspective continues to settle on me. Where did all of this come from? Love for a woman I had never met, compassion for a broken heart I didn't understand and empathy for grief I could not imagine - where did it come from? How did I get here. Months earlier it was only excitement about a new family member. This would be a good thing (and it is) and we would all be excited about the opportunity to be blessed by another child... no one warned me, not even a glimpse, of the heart wrenching difficulties that I was about to experience. Or, if I was warned, I wasn't listening - ignorance.
I feel that I have come a long way in sharing these parts of the story, and I will continue here. But I will stop to say that there are no words, not even a fathoming of the imagination that would allow me to try to communicate what it was like to meet Tamene's first mother. I will tell you that she is a beautiful woman. He clearly gets those amazing eyes from her. My heart sank when I saw her. They share their eyes, the profile is shockingly similar. She and I, we held each other, there was no "comforting" but rather a passing of a torch and a receiving. There was nothing that would comfort her, she was clearly heart broken, but each hug and each kiss was another creation of a memory, a hope, or a wish. I hope I heard her heart as clearly as I thought. I hope my heart spoke back as clearly as I tried. I love her. I miss her. I will never forget her hands, her touch, her skin, her hair, her eyes. Each piece of her has it's own vivid memory, each slide together to make her real. I hope that some day Tamene can meet her, and if somehow that opportunity never reveals itself, then I pray I have captured those moments strongly enough in my spirit that he will feel them when we speak of her. I will end there. Mostly because there is no end. We did leave that place, but there was no good-bye, she is with me as I hope I am, and Tamene is, with her. I hope that in the memories of Tamene she finds a moment of comfort when she is in need.
Leaving Hosanna.We left Hosanna. I do not remember leaving. But I do recall leaving part of my heart there.
We traveled back North to Addis. Along the way our agency arranged for us to stop at the home of a "local family". I promise to educate myself more on all of this and get the terminology correct. For now, just the western view. They lived in what we would call a hut. There entire living space was the size of one room in my house. I am sure this is not a surprise, we have seen pictures and heard about this. We were there in the home of this beautiful family, maybe 7 members. I am not sure how they all slept in that space, it was small and I can imagine they each sleep next to the "fire pit" in the middle of the living area when it is cold. I'd like to consider myself privileged for something as small as being able to rest at night when I don't have to worry that my two year old might wake and decide to play in the fire.
So this little home was near a road, but you could see many homes off in the distance that were probably a few miles from the road... and we had heard of many more that lived several hours walk from the road. And on this trip in driving, I now can say I don't recall passing one hospital or medical center of any kind. We saw a couple of schools, and maybe I have a flash of a Red Cross that we might have passed... but if you live two hours drive from there and you have an emergency, I don't see that being a reasonable or likely journey... these people do not own cars. We were the privileges ones with cars, cameras, stickers, clothes and food. So no medical care near by, we didn't see any water in this area either. The children all came to us. So excited to see us or maybe excited to see what we were bringing. I had stickers. Stickers???? These are starving children and I have stickers. Again, there was no warning about this, and the trip didn't come with an informational packet outlining the correct "souvenirs" (read, survival items)to distribute to these children. So after we photograph the children with our "high tech" cameras and show them the pictures of themselves, they are so thrilled. We hand out our stickers, fellow travelers brought pretzels, toothbrushes, and other small items. We head to the bus to depart. The children follow. The windows are open and the begin to put their hands in the window. We start digging in our bags for any food we may have brought for ourselves. Protein bars... just in case I might get hungry, I brought protein bars. A day long trip and I have along a handful of protein bars because I might, might, might feel a twinge of hunger.
Let me tell you about the hands in the bus. All those little hands. This was more than reaching for a treat. More than a holiday parade where my kids have been so picky they "didn't want that kind of candy" and either wouldn't pick it up from the ground or if they did, didn't eat it later. There were the little hands. I blindly pulled things from my bag and just handed them. Not noticing that only the big enough and tall enough children were getting anything. I dug around hoping to find more. While digging I look out the window to see only the strongest were able to get items. But there was a little hand, a little girl, her fingers barely inside the bus, pushed to the back of the group but struggling to get the tip of her finger even near the bus. I saw her out there, I found one more bar, I grabbed her hand, I held it. I took her fingers and quickly and tightly wrapped it around the bar and pushed her hand back, giving her time to run before the boys might try to take the food from her. Only recently did someone explain to me that at times the children will physically fight over this food and that what we offered to them probably had bigger repercussions than just taking food and it belonging to the person possessing it at that moment. I hope that little girl was able to keep the food and eat it. I wonder if our protein bars gave a moment of relief of hunger. But that is my western view, my American description, I can't claim to know anything about what it was like for those children before, during, or after our brief and unknowing visit.
I have pictures of the home and the children that we met that day. The pictures are beautiful, the people are beautiful. Nothing about the pictures captures what we saw at that home in Ethiopia.
If this blog is making you sad, or you wonder how much longer I can go on... you have only been reading a few minutes... we were there a week. A week - a tiny drip in the bucket of time, but not enough words that exist to explain it.
An e-mail to JB while I was writing this post: I have been writing a long time... it is long (this blog). It is sad. JB, I am sad. This is not about Post Adoption Depression, I love, love, love Tamene. I couldn't be any more in love or be any more his momma in any way (ohhh it makes me soooo excited for you)... but I am so so sad about what I saw in Ethiopia, I mourn for him the loss of his first mother, I mourn for me the loss of a sister (his mother) that I never knew. - In thinking about this communication to JB, I mourn for what I did not learn about the country while I was there. I was there to bring home Tamene. And we did. But as I mentioned earlier, I didn't know this all came with the "deal". I had no idea the the emotional experience that was about to hit me like a truck. I knew that there was a big truck coming our way when we decided to adopt... but that was about a baby and a family of five that would live here in Minnesota., that was about intercultural, interracial adoption - that was about being accepted by our family. That was about bringing home a healthy child... Healthy? What did I know?
Leaving Ethiopia
Leaving Ethiopia was bittersweet. Landing in Washington DC, feeling like the adoption was real and complete, final, in it's own symbolic way. So sad that Tamene would not be able to live the beautiful culture of Ethiopia first hand, yet so grateful that he did not have to experience the effects of Ethiopia first hand.
Before I Knew You
Before I knew you I read other adopting parents notes that including fretting about the kind of bathroom they would use while in Ethiopia. Or wondering if the food would be something they "liked". Others, including myself, worried about earplugs to ensure comfort while sleeping, or feared bedbugs and the discomfort that might come from possibly sharing a home with such critters. Another concern was whether or not we would have our own private car for the trip to and from Hosanna. Families were concerned about their privacy after such an event. Privacy, really? Privacy? We- umm, I, just completely invaded and stripped this birth family, the first family, of any privacy and possibly dignity that they might have had about this situation, and I am worried about my privacy. It's wrong to worry about these kinds of things, it just is. I didn't know it then, but I know it now. There were the reasonable worries about the status of our children and the progress of adoption... I think that is all reasonable and expected. But looking back... who cares about a bathroom, who cares about what kind of food you eat for one short week of your life. Who cares if I was "comfortable enough"... I'll spare you my thoughts on childbirth in that country versus this one, only to say again, how blessed I am.
Before I Knew You the world was a smaller place. Before I knew you, I knew very little, and now I know how much more I have to learn. Before I knew you I loved you. Before I knew you, you belonged to us and to this family. Before I knew you, I prayed for you. Before I knew you.
Knowing you
Now, here I am. I know you. Little Tamene, how perfectly you fit into our family. Each of our children making the perfect fit and the perfect combination for our family. We welcome you, your first mother, your first family, first culture and life experiences... we welcome you here to this time and place. We welcome you home.
What's next?
What could be better than a story that never ends. You can watch us all live happily ever after at http://www.theyalllivehappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/ . I promise that the new blog will continue to address issues of race, diversity, adoption, gratefulness, gratitude, pre-teen years and life with a three year old boy from Ethiopia. I promise to try to offer the naked truth about my experience with my family, while maintaining the privacy and the dignity of my family.
What can I do?
I asked myself, while writting this post: What else can I do? I have many big plans and big dreams about how I can change the world... but today I will take this small step:
This is a program that allows individuals to sponsor children in "developing countries" who have needs. There are many other opportunities that are out there to change the world. But, in our travel group to Ethiopia there were two familes who sponsored children through this program. They were able to meet the children they have been sponsoring and see the difference they have made in the lives of these children and their families. So, that's what I will do.
What will you do?
What will you do?
Edit 7/24/09 - We never signed up to sponsor a child. But I think I still did take action. I still did something. I still made an effort to make another small change... 5 days from now I will be in Ghana joining my two newly adopted daughters. Ghana changed me too!